Monday, November 08, 2010

Samurai Letter Carrier

I was talking with some people the other day. They were surprised to learn that I once worked for the Postal Service and that I left before shooting up the place. I shared a few stories with them.

One story in particular was when I learned self defense the hard way. I had a walking route for a couple years and the neighborhood I delivered to was a working class neighborhood where its inhabitants all seemed to have the need to own big dogs;, many of them vicious. After several close calls I purchased a big, (and I mean big) fillet knife that I attached to the strap of my mail bag. At the first sign of trouble I’d have that knife out like a samurai. All the dog owners on that route with problem dogs quickly became aware of my resolve to defend myself. One by one the home owners learned to restrain their animals after seeing a crazed letter carrier with a big knife shouting, “Bring it on Rover, Bring it on!!!”

During several years on the routes I was only bitten once and that was on a motor route. I had to deliver a package to the door of one house. I stopped carrying the knife after I gave up my walking route. It was a German Shepherd. It came out of no where and took a swatch of material out of my right trouser leg. It was fast. It bit me and ran. Even if I had a knife I wouldn’t even have had enough time to react.

Back when my neighborhood had its share of loose dogs, our letter carrier always had a pocket-full of dog biscuits. The hounds would run up to him as soon as he rounded the corner, and follow him until they got their payoff.

When I was around 11, I had an enormous paper route. On Sundays I'd be delivering by 3:30 AM to be able to get everything out by the 7:00 deadline.

On my route were a few very aggressive dogs. I carried Nunchucks (yes, laugh -- it was that silly) in my paper bags on the bike to defend myself with.

One morning (night?) the dog that always ran up and literally bounced off this little rickety fence did his thing as I went up a driveway. The fence just fell flat. He looked at me, I looked at him, and he lunged.

I got the 'chucks out and whacked him HARD on the nose (I was scared), and the sound that came out of that poor dog made me put away the weapon for the rest of my paper career. I felt horrible -- I think in fear I used way too much force and probably broke his nose/face/jaw in some way. Poor guy.